


Finish What We Started

by nouams (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF, X Factor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:38:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nouams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Nick could harness the energy of his heartbeat when he’s around Harry, he’d be able to provide power to several impoverished countries with enough left to buy a small Fortune 500 company and a sandwich with some chips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finish What We Started

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: Maybe I'll finish this eventually. Sorry for not updating. :(

It’s not as if the only reason Nick went to the GQ Style Awards was to meet One Direction (it was), and therefore, Harry Styles (it definitely was). He still would have gone if One Direction wasn’t there (he really would have, just not as willingly). Nick just considered meeting One Direction a perk.

And it’s definitely not as if he collects celebrity acquaintances like a kid might collect football cards (but if he does, it’s not his fault; he can’t help that they seem drawn to him like sharks to blood).

But if celebrity acquaintances were football cards, Harry Styles would be a collector’s item. In near mint condition, maybe taken out of it’s little plastic sleeve once or twice just to be signed, he’d be worth millions.

So maybe, just maybe, he flirts a little. But the kid can’t be more than seventeen years old so he tries to shut down that part of his brain as best he can, a task made difficult by Harry’s ability to light up a room. If Nick could harness the energy of his heartbeat when he’s around Harry, he’d be able to provide power to several impoverished countries with enough left to buy a small Fortune 500 company and a sandwich with some chips.

No, okay, that’s absurd. But Nick can’t help going over to introduce himself (he’s met Harry before, but why would Harry remember him). Before trying to speak he switches his glass of champagne to his left hand, back to his right, and again to his left because he clearly doesn’t know what to do with himself, let alone glassware or alcohol.

“When they said ‘GQ Style Show’ I didn’t think they meant, ‘Styles Show’,” he mentally kicks himself for that one. Definitely wasn’t as funny as it sounded in his head.

“Nicholas Grimshaw,” Harry replies, startling Nick out of his own body. He very nearly left this earthly realm to continue his existence in his likely destination, namely, Hell. Of course, Harry is smiling at Nick like he’s known him since birth (which would’ve made Nick nine, nearly ten. He has to remind himself of this every few minutes).

“Harold Styles,” he tries to get down into Harry’s register (probably the worst thing he’s done thus far, and that’s saying a lot).

Nick takes a poorly timed sip of his champagne just as Harry decides to acknowledge his joke, “Styles show, that’s funny. You’re funny, I like you.”

Nick definitely makes an unattractive sound and may or may not have fluid in his nostrils. But Harry just laughs like he was expecting it.

Nick ends up being seated at the same table as the One Direction boys and James Corden. He and James team up to give them some advice (because they’re older, Nick keeps reminding himself), even though it is entirely unnecessary. James is very sure they’re going to be accosted by security for even mentioning the idea of strippers

“Well, this is all very exciting, isn’t it?” Nick asks before Harry has a chance to wander off.

“Yeah, I’ve just seen Ronnie Wood,” Harry answers happily and pulls out his phone, tapping away at the screen. He twists it around to show Nick a sneaky photo he’s snapped from across the room.

“Oh, that’s not a very good picture, come on,” He grabs Harry’s arm and tugs him towards the small gaggle of people surrounding what he assumes is The Mr. Wood. Harry tugs his arm back.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m going to properly introduce you to Ronnie Wood,” Nick replies, slipping a bit of annoyance into his voice just to see how far he can take this.

“We can’t just go up and talk to Ronnie Wood... He’s-- he’s Ronnie Wood!” Harry looks a little panicked.

“Young, innocent, baby-faced Harold.” Harry makes a face. “Gather up the lads, I’m going to introduce you to Ronnie Wood.”

Harry looks at him like he might be Zeus. And also Hades.

When Harry returns with the other boys, Niall looks like he might die at any second. Liam skeptically asks, “You know Ronnie Wood then?”

Nick pauses for a second, carefully considering his answer. “Well, not as such, Liam. But how will you get anywhere if you don’t introduce yourself to each celebrity you’re in a room with?”

It’s Nick’s life motto. He ought to have it tattooed on his chest.

After a photo and little chat with Ronnie, the others wander off, excited and tweeting. Harry hangs back with Nick for a moment, typing up something on his phone.

“I’m going to tweet this, do you have a twitter?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah grimmers, that’s with two ‘m’s,” Nick says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. But Harry Styles following him on twitter? Oh, how the thirteen year old girls will envy him.

Harry taps away and then nods, “Alright, well we’re about to leave, but it was great seeing you again, Nicholas.”

“You too, Harold,” he’s fumbling with a way to keep this going, grasping at straws that are being tugged away from him. “You should come on my show sometime.”

Harry shrugs, “Yeah, alright. Let me give you my number.”

Nick thinks he might blackout and wake up with his pants on his head in a sketchy bar down in Chelsea.

They trade numbers and it takes all of the self respect and willpower Nick has to keep from texting Harry as soon as he gets in a cab. In the end it doesn’t matter, because, while he’s trying to juggle his wallet, keys, and phone, he gets a text from Harry.

> _It was nice to meet you again! :) xx_

Nick would be lying if he said he didn’t read into the two kisses. Because, who the fuck sends two kisses?

-

They’ve had a steady stream of conversation going for two days and things are entirely too flirty. He probably shouldn’t be this flirty with anyone under the age of twenty three. Especially not with a pop star in a boy band.

And then everything goes down the drain. Or, rather, his phone does. Which wouldn’t be a big deal, except it’s got his entire life on it. He fishes it out of the toilet and attempts to save it as best he can.

Nick can’t quite remember what he’s supposed to do with waterlogged electronics. A bag of rice? He thinks they might have those at restaurants off the beaches to keep water out of the salt, but it could be the other way around. Does he put his phone in salt? That sounds like a terrible idea, even to him, so he sticks to rice and leaves it there overnight.

Fortunately, the rice seems to do the trick (Nick’s mum would be proud to have taught him anything, even this). Although the phone turns on, there seem to be a few problems. He tests it out on twitter: 

> _Lookhow. Brokn. Mybphone. Is•. Lolz._

Two minutes pass and he notices that Harry has replied to his tweet:

> _@grimmers that's explains a lot!_
> 
> _@Harry_Styles its. So. ;*annoying_

Suddenly his phone is buzzing so many times he thinks maybe all is lost and he really did break it completely. When it first goes off he jumps and nearly throws it across the room before catching himself. It takes him a minute to realise that he’s receiving all of the text messages and tweets from the last thirty-six hours.

He’s got seven messages from Harry, three from Aimee, and one from Pixie along with a few dozen twitter notifications, which is just absurd.

> _Well we’ve just done the promo for the single_  
>  _So we don’t have much going on until we tour in january just lots of press_  
>  _I guess you could have me on the show sometime before then????_  
>  _We’re releasing the next single soon i think let me check on a date_  
>  _In October liam says_  
>  _Hello????? Nick?_  
>  _NICHOLAS. Are. You. Ignoring. Me???_

He texts back:

> _Idon’t; think. I’m. l3gally alowd 2 ignor. A ppstar._

It only takes a few seconds for Harry’s reply:

> _I think i deciphered that message_  
>  _We’re going to the teen awards and you’re hosting that right???_

Nick texts back a quick ‘ys’, hitting his e button furiously, but it doesn’t seem to work. He quickly goes through the other messages from Aimee and Pixie asking if he’d like to go out the night before. He adds replying to their messages to his to-do list, because if he doesn’t get back to Aimee soon she’ll start to worry.

He shuffles through his twitter notifications sort of surprised, but mostly, he knows what to expect. He’s gained a few dozen followers since Harry’s tweeted him and there are a bunch of replies and retweets and mentions from people he doesn’t know, in languages he doesn’t understand.

>   _They’ve asked us to perform so i guess we’ll see each other then!!_

-

It's been seven days since Harry grabbed his bum on national television at the teen awards. So, there’s that. Which is just... really inexplicable. They’ve been texting since then, but Harry is working, and Nick should be working too. He’s having Harry call in on the show so he preps a few days ahead just to be safe. Fortunately, he has a new phone now. His first plan is to call Harry the day before and do a run through.

“Haaaaaaarry,” Nick yells into his new phone. “I’ve got a new phone!”

“Grimmy!” Harry yells back. “I’m very happy to hear that.”

“You’re quite tired of trying to translate my texts, aren’t you?”

“No, no, they have an app for that. How are you?”

“Good,” Nick picks at a fingernail, trying to sound less like his nan, which, of course, he is terrible at. “How are you, then, love?” He hates himself, he really does.

“Shut up, Niall-- no-- I’ll- Paul!” There’s a moment of confusion where Nick thinks that Harry is legitimately trying to communicate with him and not someone on the other side of the phone. There’s a lot of commotion and then sudden silence. Nick thinks the call’s dropped, but then Harry takes a sharp breath. “Sorry about that. Lads, you know.”

“Lads,” Nick agrees somberly.

“I’m alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, we’ve just had a long day. Filming for a new video.”

“Oh, look at you, such a pop star,” Nick says, and, yes, that’s the most like his nan he’s sounded in his entire life. Harry just chuckles and they stay quiet for a moment.

Nick clears his throat, “So I figured I’d call you to do a run of the questions and what not for tomorrow?”

Harry sighs and Nick is definitely not on his third bag of crisps in the last two hours (he is). The entire weekend had been sort of terrible. He’d possibly eaten more than his own body weight, a number that was quickly escalating with each crisp. It totally had nothing to do with Harry grabbing his bum (it did). And it definitely didn’t have anything to do with Harry not texting as much (Aimee had told him to shut up about it at least five times today).

“Or not?” Nick asks, dejectedly. His heart drops to his stomach.

“No, sorry, mate. I’m just exhausted,” there’s a pause, Nick waiting to see if he’s going to ask to do it tomorrow instead. “And I sort of, I don’t know, miss you.”

Nick barks out a laugh, “What?”

“Nothing, I just haven’t had as much time to text you,” Harry rambles quickly. “I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages.”

“What?” Nick asks again, unsure of how to react.

“Forget it, let’s just do the questions,” Harry mumbles. Nick doesn’t know how he’s going to get through tomorrow.

-

Harry calls Nick again a few days later. Nick realises he hasn’t talked to anyone on the phone for more than ten minutes at a time since... well, he can’t remember the last time he talked on the phone with anyone for as long as he talks to Harry.

After a few dirty jokes they somehow end up talking about a woman Nick swears he saw squirting breast milk across her kitchen. After they hang up, Nick tells himself he absolutely has to stop this. This instant. Because it’s not alright. He’s old enough to be Harry’s father (not really, but very nearly, at least).

The next day, Nick’s at home visiting his parents when Harry calls him again.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think I was being courted, Mr. Styles.”

Harry ignores him, “You’re in Manchester, yeah?”

Nick stops and looks around his parents’ living room, checking to see if young Harold is hidden behind the coat rack or underneath the tablecloth in the adjacent dining room, “What, are you watching me, then? I have to say, Harry, this is extremely awkward. I am going to put pants on right away, you little perv.”

“You told me you were going to see your mum yesterday! We’re in Manchester too.”

“Oh?”

“We should meet up.”

-

Harry had been laughing the entire time they were shopping, but when they’re in a cab on the way to drop Harry off at his hotel, it’s Nick’s turn.

“Did you hear her though? She was so excited, Frankie Cocozza!” Nick is gasping for breath and Harry is frowning angrily.

“They thought you were my dad in the store,” Harry counters, hitting Nick on the shoulder a few times. Nick is laughing so hard that he starts tearing up.

“How many girls’ names have you got tattooed on your bum, Haz?” Nick asks and Harry hits him again. “Will you be getting my name tattooed there too?”

He definitely deserved that last whack on the face, but he can’t help but look scandalised before they both dissolve into a fit of hitting, giggling, and grabbing. The cabbie has to yell, “Oi!” to get them to stop.

-

> _Do you ever think about how weird it is that you can add prefixes and suffixes on to verbs and then it is still a word but if you add it onto a noun it usually isn’t a word? That is so strange.._
> 
> _i honestly think you are the only person who has ever thought about how weird that is_
> 
> _Like fill. You can refill something. But you can’t repotato something._
> 
> _repotato??????????????_  
>  _you are so strange  
> _ _what are you doing in a boy band when clearly you are the next einstein or hawking or something_
> 
> _Heeeey!_
> 
> _i’m serious i don’t think i know anyone that would think about that  
> _ _like critically or whatever  
> _ _you are really clever under all the hair and dimples_
> 
> _Aww :) x_
> 
> _oh shove off it was one compliment don’t let it go to your head_

-

It kind of sucks that Nick has to hear about the whole thing from a tabloid. It definitely sucks when Mel asks him at work, “So your boyfriend is dating your pal Caroline, then?” After the second link he remembers to belatedly yell, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

It’s fine. Really.

Nick considers dropping his phone in the toilet again, because he finds it really difficult to ignore Harry’s texts. He wishes that he could be logical about this, that he could say nothing’s changed. But, despite that, he had never actually asked Harry on a date (although he didn’t presume to know Harry’s sexuality), so he felt he had no real reason to be upset.

Besides, Harry’s practically a child, even if he swears like a sailor and is more sexual than Nick knows what to do with. It’s the flirting, really. That’s what confuses Nick, because everything else would be alright if Harry didn’t flirt with him.

And, yeah, some of the flirting is his fault too, but Harry doesn’t have to treat it the way he does. So this is 75% Harry’s fault, for sure.

He should’ve seen it coming though, he should’ve known better. He feels like he set himself up for disappointment from the start.

It’s at least 80% Harry’s fault.

-

> _Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick_  
>  _NnNNnnNnNnNnick_  
>  _Nick why haven’t you texted me back?_  
>  _I’m getting a little worried did you die or something_  
>  _i bet you went out in an explosion on a horse through a ring of fire_  
>  _why is there a ring of fire AND an explosion you ask? who knows_  
>  _goodnight nicholas_  
>  _wake yourself up grimmy!_  
>  _good morning sunshine i hope you are having a wonderful day_  
>  _Whoops did i say sunshine? Apparently it’s cloudy today with a chance of fuck you_  
>  _Ok now i know you are deliberately ignoring my messages because i just saw a tweet  
> _ _I’M NOT STUPID NICK.  
> _ _I don’t know what i did to offend you but text me when you get over it or whatever_

85% Harry’s fault. Definitely.

-

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Decided against tagging this as underage, considering Harry is seventeen only in this chapter! This started off as a prompt that I ended up filling myself: "Harry and Nick decide to screw with the fans a litte and swap clothes". This chapter is pretty much just exposition!
> 
> Many thanks to Liv, Carla, and Emma for feedback that mostly just consisted of "WOW THAT WAS GREAT IF YOU DON'T KEEP WRITING I'M GOING TO KICK YOU IN THE FACE". And major thanks to Katelyn for being amazing and going through this for several hours with me for awkward sentences and typos. She deserves a medal.
> 
> Any other errors are left to myself (especially since I am an American and pretend to know as much as I can for Brit fics anyway). I worked pretty hard to set up a timeline that matches up with tweets and interviews (jesus christ). Hopefully the next chapter will be up shortly!
> 
> Title taken from Brokenhearted


End file.
